Mirrors
by fabric
Summary: Sylar is at large once again and this time it will take a special hero to take him down. In an attempt to protect Molly from Sylar's new found strength, the Company enlist a new hero who has too much to lose by not being involved. *Spoilers for Season
1. You Have Loved Enough

Chapter 1 – You Have Loved Enough

The bar haze slunk across the battered lounge room as a new swell of after work drinkers caused the bartender to leave his half finished article and get to work. On a Friday night in Brooklyn there are some bars not even the tourists will reach and the Union was one of them. It sat in a side street between a closed down book store and a lively Irish bar which claimed most of the post-work crowd. The Union was much loved by the people who made it their regular haunt, but few new patrons breached its door – it just wasn't that kind of place. There was nothing for the clientele to tell, just another bar with just another pool table, another dart board and another row of taps filled with standard domestic beer. Tonight though, there was a relatively new customer, sat alone in a dark corner, just watching as she had done once a week for the last two months.

The door swung open and three young men bustled into the bar. One was young looking, maybe just 21, with shoulder length dark brown hair and a Pearl Jam t-shirt. One was Japanese, with spiky black hair and a striped shirt with rolled up sleeves. The last man was the one the girl in the corner was waiting for. He didn't know it yet, but she was. He had dirty blonder hair with long bangs which was swept across his blue eyes. He wore a long light brown wool coat and a pink shirt with a white t-shirt underneath it. She had seen this outfit before, the first night she had been here and the first time she had seen him. This felt like fate.

She knew his name was Mark, she had heard it one night whilst standing at the bar. She had been attracted by his quietness, his soft voice and his shy smile. He reminded her of a boy she'd known back in England. She had never spoken to that boy, but she was going to have this one. Something told her she was owed that much.

* * *

Mohinder Suresh was staring again, and he knew it. He could see Molly watching him out of the corner of his eye, but couldn't meet her gaze. He had sworn to protect her and instead had allowed Sylar to hover over her as she slept, allowed her to witness him shooting Maya and allowed Elle Bishop into her life.

On the night that Sylar escaped with Niki's cure Matt had come home expecting not to find Mohinder there. The fact that he was told him more than he needed to glean through his telepathy. The look on Mohinder's face had rendered Matt's ability completely unnecessary. They had sat opposite each other at the kitchen table barely speaking as the enormity of the situation presented itself. Sylar was back, and his involuntary hiatus seemed to have only whetted his appetite for murder. Mohinder remembered the look on Maya's face when the bullet had entered her chest. The pain from the gunshot had seemed secondary to the look of betrayal in her eyes, and he knew he had seen a young woman being murdered by the man she loved. When the gasp of breath had come from her revived body she seemed disappointed. Death had at least stopped her thoughts, but now she was back, without her brother, without her Angel Gabriel and with the cure she craved running through his veins instead of hers.

Matt had disappeared to bed, leaving Mohinder staring at the wall, wondering how he had come full circle. Sylar on the loose, Molly in danger, and this time no Noah Bennett to do the things which Mohinder couldn't bring himself to. The doctor knew that Sylar would be back for Molly, and probably for Matt too. With Molly's ability he could take a shortcut to any hero he chose, and with Matt's he could prise their identities from the Company. Sylar would be unstoppable this time.

* * *

Unstoppable.

Sylar's new apartment was a step up from the filthy motels he'd been used to on his South American jaunt. It was stereotypical yuppie comfort, all glass and wooden floors with neutral tones and no clutter. He knew that it wouldn't be long before Suresh and Parkman were pressuring the little girl into finding him, but he planned to keep moving this time.

He knew what loneliness was and he'd spotted it in the eyes of the investment banker he'd killed four hours previously. Sylar had followed him to the building and murdered him in the parking lot stairwell. Now as the body cooled in an alleyway dumpster he realised that the door man hadn't even blinked when Sylar passed the stolen passkey over the elevator button and started to ascend to the dead man's home. No one knew or cared who 611 was. The answering machine was empty, there were no photos, barely any food, lots of booze. No-one would miss this one for a while.

Suddenly his mind flashed on Maya. The plan had always been to kill her, and pulling the trigger hadn't been a problem. But he couldn't deny that when she had jerked back into life he felt…..what? Relief? Just that then, nothing else. He reluctantly recalled their first kiss, outside his motel room in Virginia, and how for the briefest of moments he had felt like a human being again. He thought of Gabriel Gray, and how he would never have dreamed of kissing a beauty like Maya. Then, just as fast as he had submitted to the memory he pushed it away. He was thankful that his old abilities were back, and that he wouldn't ever have to use those deceitful human powers of attraction and seduction ever again. He despised the way that he had been able to manipulate Maya, make her feel safe and loved and wanted. Putting a bullet to her had been the first honest thing he'd done.

* * *

The boys had been drinking for hours now and the girl noticed how Mark's voice was getting louder and how his laugh was surfacing more often. He disappeared to the men's bathroom and she followed. She waited for him, and wished she could skip forward in time, past her proposition, past his acceptance and straight to the part where he was hers. She knew he would come with her, leave his friends baffled and walk out of the bar with a girl he didn't know, back to his place where they'd sleep together, and where tomorrow morning he'd wake alone wondering why he felt so empty and used.

She knew it would happen, and she knew it was her making it happen. Some would call it a curse, but right now, as she looked into those perfect blue eyes, she knew it wasn't. It was a gift.


	2. A Singer Must Die

Chapter 2

Chapter 2 -

Don't wake him, she thought.

She had woken with the first light this morning and for a moment Martha had forgotten where she was. Then she had seen the Smiths poster on the wall and remembered Mark, beautiful Mark who was sleeping next to her. She had crept to the bathroom to get dressed, praying that he wouldn't wake and see her, and knowing that if he did it wouldn't matter. As long as she wanted him he would want her, but she couldn't do it to him, she couldn't make him feel something that he didn't. Not again.

Martha allowed herself one last look at him sleeping, his hair hanging across his cheek. Then she turned and left, closing the door behind her silently, with every instinct she had telling her to go back, to wake him, to stay with him forever. Instead she ran down the apartment block stairs and into the street, letting the cold air revive her and feeling the tears begin to prick at her. The emptiness was back, the feeling she called The Chill. Another word for it was truth. Yet another was fear.

Theo McCarthy was having a good day. There was another bunch of notes in his pocket from the recording studio and there had been the promise of more. Theo didn't know anything about copyright or performance licenses but since Rob had seen him singing karaoke as Rod Stewart in Nabankan on 2nd he'd been making a great living for once. He looked nothing like the guy but on record it was impossible to tell them apart and apparently companies will pay good money for artist impersonators.

Theo had always been a good mimic but his talent had usually gotten him into trouble, with his school teachers, with employers, with anyone he was caught impersonating. He had been able to fool the school administrators into thinking he was his own father, he'd booked into restaurants as Jack Nicholson and now he was raking it in making cover CDs for Rob's company and doing celebrity impersonations for cell phone ringtones. Finally there was someone willing to give him credit for his silly little trick, and he was reaping the benefits.

Theo's smile was so wide that it stayed on his face for a good few seconds after an unknown force sliced off the top of his skull and he sank lifeless to the ground.

Now it was Sylar who was smiling. This name he had been saving since before Kirby Plaza, and he had been so close to eliminating McCarthy then. The man had angered him more than any other he'd killed for an ability. Sylar couldn't stand the thought of this jester wasting such a power on karaoke and practical jokes. McCarthy could mimic any voice he had heard with 100 percent accuracy, and was content with party tricks and a fast 50 for singing Do Ya Think I'm Sexy.

He went through the guy's wallet and found a card for Rob Thompson at SyncSound Studios. The first call would be to him, to let the recently deceased McCarthy resign in his own voice, being heard for the last time.

Sunlight burst through the window of Bob Bishop's office where Mohinder and Matt sat blinking. Bishop was pacing, rustling papers. Matt had come straight to the Company when word had come through to the precinct about the new body. He had head Mohinder's version of the events surround Sylar's escape and he had heard his friend's protestations and his apologies, even if they were silent. Sylar had been in their apartment, with Molly and that was enough to seriously dent Matt's trust in Suresh. He knew he was high on Sylar's list of victims, probably even higher than Molly was. Did Sylar know about the mind control?

"Gentleman," Bishop began. He was tired too, and Sylar was the last thing he wanted to have to deal with. The villain had gotten past Mohinder and Elle; the latter bothered him more.

"Gentleman, this new victim, Theodore McCarthy, was someone we knew was out there. We believe that Sylar came across his details months ago, even before the Ted Sprague incident."

Matt tried not to look at Mohinder, whose shoulders had dropped. "What was his ability?"

"We're not sure. He was on our radar but all we had was a name, the man didn't even have a job. At that moment in time he was the least of our worries as I'm sure you'll appreciate."

Mohinder's hands were clasped, clammy. He was searching his memory for the name and nothing was coming. "Do we have any idea what this man could do? If Sylar was after him then surely it was something he could use."

"From what we can gather it was some kind of mental ability, not a kinetic power. We need to be on our guard but I think the next course of action must be to at least locate Sylar."

_And for that we need Molly._

Matt was on his feet. "If Sylar gets to her…"

"We can protect her, but we can't send people into the field doing detective work when Sylar is out there possibly at full strength. Until now we weren't even sure if the cure had worked, but I think we can safely assume that Theo McCarthy was proof that it has."

Bishop turned to Mohinder, looking for back up. "Our facility can protect her."

"That's debatable."

"We can keep her safer than you did."

Suresh's chair hit the floor as he lunged at Bishop. Matt was already up and pulled his friend back as Bishop backed off behind the desk.

"Mohinder I don't think you appreciate what we're dealing with here. Sylar is on the loose, we don't have his location, he's killed again and we have no idea what new power he's wielding. He got to Molly once at your apartment without any power whatsoever, what makes you think he isn't on his way to get her right now?"

"The fact that you have her here already." Matt could feel Mohinder's eyes on him but couldn't meet his gaze. Bishop felt disarmed but there was something in Parkman's voice that gave him hope of a resolution.

Mohinder started. "You knew they already had her?"

"Mohinder he's right, we can't watch her 24/7, we just can't. At least if she's here…"

"I see what this is about, you don't trust me with her anymore. How was I to know that Sylar was back?"

"You weren't and that's the point, we don't know where he is."

Bishop took his chance.

"I hear your concerns for Molly, believe me we don't want to put her in any unnecessary danger, but she's the key to finding him. Until we find him she'll always be at risk."

"Alright." Mohinder's eyes met Bishop's defiantly. "But I won't leave her side until Sylar has been stopped".

"Of course," Bishop smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way".

4.45 and Officer Whitman was 15 minutes from clocking off. That murder victim had kept the front desk busy and he'd been fielding calls all afternoon about the nature of the death. He busied himself scribbling on his note pad trying to run out the hour but a shadow fell across the desk. He looked up at a young man with blonde bangs swept across his face. The man had tears in his eyes and was biting his lip.

"What can I help you with Sir?"

The young man let out a sob and Whitman instinctively stood up and moved to the other side of the desk. "Sir are you hurt? Have you been the victim of a crime?"

Mark Elliot's shoulders sank and he took a deep breath, wondering how this middle aged male cop would react to what he was about to report.

"I think I've been raped."


	3. If It Be Your Will

Chapter 3

Martha chewed her pen as she began to remember the last night's events. She stared down at her notebook and carefully wrote the name Mark Elliot, making a line next to it signifying a one. She wouldn't get the five bar gate with this one, she felt already that she was beginning to regret the whole thing, and this left her powerless.

She started to read the other names on the page, Patrick Marshall, Nathan Wright, Bryn Williamson, they went on and on. Some had ten marks next to their names, the ones that she cared little for and therefore went back to time and time again. Some had only one, indicating that she had been bored by them, or like Mark, that she's fallen for them a little too much.

Why did she feel compelled to note all this down? Martha didn't even know. It was almost as if she wanted to acknowledge all that she'd done, to document her own power. Or was it because she wanted to remember them? Whatever it was, she saw no reason to stop. She closed the notebook and shelved it with another six, all completely filled.

Just as she turned from the shelf she heard a knock at the door. Police again, she figured. She had been brought in for questioning many times before but never held, there was never any evidence and it was always a formality, to ensure that the cops couldn't be accused of inaction. She turned the latch and had time to look surprised before she was knocked out. The last thing she saw was a man in horn-rimmed glasses.

* * *

Molly was sleeping, but Mohinder still watched. Sylar hadn't made another move since the death of Theo McCarthy but this didn't comfort him in the slightest. Instead he remembered the last time he had seen him at full strength and shivered.

Matt appeared with coffee that he knew would be left to go cold, like the last one. Mohinder looked thinner, sicker than usual.

"Still sleeping?"

Mohinder looked up. "She looked like she was dreaming but nothing too sinister".

Matt turned his paper cup round in his hands trying to think of something to say. He tuned out Mohinder's thoughts lately, they were all the same and he always felt guilty trying to respond to them.

Breaking the silence Bob Bishop entered from the hallway, keeping his gaze on Molly.

"Have you eaten today Dr.Suresh?"

Mohinder waved his hand dismissively. "I'll eat later".

_Matt, I need to speak with you._

Parkman looked up at Bob, whose eyes were still on Molly.

"Matt, are you hungry? It will only go to waste…."

Matt took his queue and rose out of the chair. "Sure, I could do with something. Are you sure Mohinder?"

"I'm fine. Take your time."

Parkman followed Bob out of the room trying to remain casual. As they left he heard Bob once more.

_We may have a solution to the Sylar problem._

* * *

Martha tried to lean low in the metal chair but it wasn't easy. The police she could handle, but this was different. She hadn't had time to use her usual escape plan, and she had to admit that she was intrigued. If she wasn't she certainly wouldn't still be here.

She sat in a white room with two way glass along one wall. It was just like the interview rooms she had sat in before, but this one seemed less…formal. Whoever had clocked her she figured it wasn't anything to do with the police. Why would they suspect her to be dangerous? She touched her head where the cosh had taken her down. No need for that kind of force, it stung like hell. It was a long time since anyone had hurt her physically and she was already planning what to do about it.

The door opened and in walked the glasses guy, alone.

"How's your head?"

"Sore. But I must have deserved it, I'm sorry to cause you so much trouble".

Noah bristled.

"I apologise Miss Roberts. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

Martha smiled. "Water under the bridge".

Noah blinked and behind the two way glass there was an exchange. The unseen faces were deciding whether to send in back up.

"I must admit Miss Roberts, you weren't what I expected."

"Really?" Martha was getting bored already. "You're exactly what I expected".

"We think we may be able to help each other. We have a problem we'd like you to help us with, and in return we can get you out of any trouble with the police."

"I'm not in any trouble with the police. I didn't do anything. But I'm a helpful person Mr….."

"Bennet".

"Mr Bennet, and I'd be happy to do anything to help you. I like you.

Noah smiled at the girl. She wasn't so bad after all. Why they had had to use such for force on her he had no idea. She was 100 pounds if that and hardly threatening.

"Can I get you anything Miss Roberts?"

"Well, can I go home and come back to talk to you later? It's getting close to home time for you Mr Bennet I'm sure, it's nearly five."

Noah smiled again. What a sweet girl. She had no idea that he'd be here all night, but there was no reason for her to be.

"I'm sure that'll be fine Miss Roberts. We'll call you in the morning. Sorry to keep you."

Martha got up and walked towards the door, giving Bennet her best smile on the way out. She was barely over the threshold when a hand came down on her shoulder.

"That was very impressive Martha. Now let's talk for real".

As Martha turned back towards the exit she saw a tall black man looking straight back at her. Her shoulders dropped she turned to Bennet, the smile gone.

"Alright. What do you want?"

* * *

"A rapist? That's your solution?"

Matt wondered what hell they were doing with this girl. He has believed from the urgency in Bob's thoughts that they had a real way to combat Sylar, yet here was this little thing, sitting with her head down at the boardroom table.

_I'm not a rapist. I'm not what you think._

Bishop inhaled patiently. With the Haitian gone he had to be on his guard but it was easier now he knew what the girl's power was.

"Miss Roberts has a very rare talent. We believe that, if she agrees to help us, she could be very useful in eliminating Sylar."

"Well what is it? What's the ability? She doesn't look like a rapist to me."

_I like you Mr Parkman. You're sweet._

Matt looked at the girl again, at her shining dark eyes and black curls. "I mean, she looks so….sweet".

Martha smiled. Sitting opposite her was Noah Bennet. His face hardened.

"Don't underestimate her. She's not as sweet as she looks."

_She controls your emotions._

"Controls your emotions." Matt looked at her again. Bennet was right, all of a sudden she didn't seem so sweet.

"If you're going to talk about me like I'm not here, at least get it right."

Bob sat down. "Please, Miss Roberts. In your own words."

Martha took a breath. She had never had to articulate this to other people before. There had been one, but he didn't listen anyway. This was the first time she had been given the opportunity to give her side of the story.

"I can…." She searched for the right word. "Project, my own emotions onto other people. I can make them feel how I feel."

"And you used that to rape people?" Matt looked at Noah "Why are we sitting having this discussion with her? You've carved people up like lab rats for less!"

Suddenly Matt felt his heart leap. He shook and looked for the door but found that Bishop was half way there. Noah was pointing a gun at Martha, who was frozen in her chair. He saw the Haitian enter the room and the fear began to subside. Noah holstered his gun and Bob stopped in his tracks.

Seating himself Bishop relaxed a little. "Please, Matt. Did you not hear what she just said? Without our friend here we will feel exactly what she does. I left him out of the equation to demonstrate to you how powerful this control can be."

"Okay, well I believe you." Matt shifted in his chair and tried to picture Martha's victims. Presumably men whom she had simply infected with her own lust. Could she even control that?

Bob looked to the Haitian and he left the room.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Martha quietly.

Bob pushed over a manila file marked 'Sylar AKA Gabriel Gray'.

"In that file is all the information we have about a man named Sylar. We simply want you to keep him…quiet, for a while, until we find a more permanent solution."

Matt looked incredulous.

"She's supposed to keep him from Molly? Do I need to remind you that he's a stone cold….."

"No!" Martha yelled banging on the table. With all four men looking at her she relaxed. "If I'm going to do this, the only way I can control him is by getting him to like me, and I can only do that if I have the chance to like him."

"I don't think you appreciate how dangerous…." Matt began again.

"Stop! Don't you get it? If I'm afraid of him he'll be afraid of me, and I can't sustain that. Look, I'm not an idiot. I know you aren't sending me after a boy scout. But I need to be able to like him. It's the only way I can keep him under control."

Bob nodded. "What do you need?"

Feeling in control again, Martha sat back in the chair. She pushed the manila envelope back to Bob.

"I just need a location, and maybe a photograph. A non-emotive one please!"

Bob sifted through the scene of crime photos, the scalped bodies, the blood and hair. Isaac Mendez, Dale Smither, Zane Taylor. Finally he selected a CCTV image of Sylar in the company lab only a few weeks ago. He pushed it back across the table.

Martha took it and studied the image. Suddenly her face softened.

"He's hot!"

Against their collective will, the men all nodded.


	4. Humbled In Love

Chapter Four – Humbled In Love

Chapter Four – Humbled In Love

Gabriel Gray was bored. He had run out of victims completely, and now needed the remnants of the list. In the new apartment he felt cold and alone. He thought of Mohinder Suresh and contemplated how the doctor had at least made him feel as if he had a nemesis. Now he knew nothing.

There was a sudden scratching at the door and it opened roughly. Expecting an intruder from the Company, Sylar readied himself, but saw only a surprised young woman.

"Oh! Hi….."

"Hi" Sylar felt comforted and immediately let his guard down. The pretty young girl had black curly hair and chocolaty brown eyes, like Maya, but was shorter, and more pale skinned.

"Erm, I was moving in here today." She brushed her hair from her face and gestured to her two suitcases, not to mention the three boxes in the hall.

"I don't think that's right," said Sylar, "this is my place. 317 West Gate."

"But that's what the letter says! Oh God, I'm sorry, I have to sort this out."

The girl pulled her suitcases out of the room and made a call on her cell phone. Gabriel heard a heated conversation before she came back into the room with tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you." Said the girl as she pulled the door shut.

Against all his instincts Gabriel rushed to the door and pulled it open.

"Wait!"

The girl stopped in her tracks as Gabriel brushed a tear from his cheek.

"Why don't you come in for a minute?"

Martha considered her baggage for a second before smiling shyly and heading back into the apartment.

Gabriel closed the door and looked at the girl. "Are you English?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm from Manchester," she said.

"Wow! I've never met anyone from that part of England before." Gabriel smiled and went to the teabags, feeling all of a sudden self-conscious.

"Well I've never been to America before, so we're about even." Martha smiled and noticed the softness in Gabriel's eyes. He was under for sure.

He brought over the tea and set it down on the living room table. Martha felt alone, and nervous.

"Listen, I don't want to be presumptuous, but do you have a place to stay?" Gabriel looked at Martha, trembling with her mug.

"Ah, you guessed! No, actually it seems there's been a mix up. I thought I was living here but the letting agency seemed to have got it wrong."

Gabriel stared into his mug and inexplicably felt that he should help the girl. After all, it might lend an air of respectability to his living arrangements.

"Hey, " he said. "I know we don't know each other but I happen to have a spare room and it might be quicker than waiting for the agency to find you a place."

Martha smiled, everything was going to plan….

"Really?" she said. "You'd do that for me?"

"Sure! I could do with the company." Said Gabriel.

Martha smiled again. He didn't know how right he was.


End file.
